


Glossing Over

by GoodJanet



Category: Some Came Running (1958)
Genre: Closeted Character, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Platonic Sex, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave opens up to Bama about some sexual experiences he had in the army. He then offers a demonstration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glossing Over

It starts off with little things. Glances and half sentences awkwardly stuttered out late at night. Why did it always happen so late? What was it about the sun setting and the stars coming out that made everything feel different? Bama can't figure it out, but he's certainly not going to ask Dave. Dave might think he was--Well, Dave might think he was _strange_.

It's one of those nights again...

Bama pours him a drink and their fingers touch when he hands the glass over to Dave in a moment out of ten cent romance novel. Dave reads it as a deliberate move, and Bama gives him a slow smile and wink. He wants to see what Dave will do next now that he has been given a chance.

“I thought you liked girls,” Dave says. 

He swallows the hard drink down like it was water. Bama shrugs, pours himself a drink, and sits down on the couch just close enough that Dave to pose a challenge, an offer. He lets his legs fall open as he settles back into his seat for good measure. It doesn’t take long for Dave’s hand to find his thigh. Bama wasn't expecting  _that_. Hell, he didn't think they'd ever get this far.

“And here I thought you liked Ginny,” Bama says, feigning nonchalance.

“I do.”

“Then what are you doing right now?”

Dave ignores him and let's his hand creep up until there’s only one place left for it to go. The ice in Bama’s glass clinks as he takes a swig. He waits to see what his new pal will do; if he gets a handy out of this, he'll consider the night more than a success, but he's not going to push. Dave nods to himself, lost in thought, and slides off the couch until he’s resting on his knees on the warped hardwood floor of their filthy excuse for a house. He’s been in rough, uncomfortable situations before, given his experience with the army and all, but the floor is murder on his knees, and he can’t hide a wince as he shuffles in closer.

“Wait a second, wait a second,” Bama says because he's not as heartless as he might come across.

He puts a hand on Dave’s chest and grabs a couch cushion to hand to Dave. He's not so noble that he'll turn down a blowjob, but he's not so heartless that he wants his new pal to be uncomfortable. Dave gratefully puts it under his knees and gives a crooked smile.

“Thanks,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, staring up at Bama with those intoxicating blue eyes. “You know, ever since I was in combat, my knees just kill me. I’ve barely been able kneel down to tie my own shoes.”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, Dave.”

There’s something in the way he says it that makes him believe it. And Bama does mean it. It’s no velvet footrest, but it’s better than the floor, and it’s from Bama, so it _means_ something. The gravity of the situation suddenly becomes too much, and Dave can feel it weighing down on him. So before he can talk himself out it, he leans over Bama’s lap and reaches for his pants.

“Never done this before,” Dave says in the middle of undoing Bama’s belt and zipper.

Bama tilts his head to the side in confusion.

“You were in the army, weren’t ya? No one saw those blue eyes and went running after you?”

Dave blushes and reaches into Bama’s drawers.

“Just ‘cause they liked to pound me don’t mean I ever let 'em stick it in my mouth.”

Bama gives a loud bark of laughter that puts Dave back at ease. Dave takes advantage of his good humor and takes him inside his mouth. Bama gives a guttural gasp, and Dave guesses he’s doing something right. He bobs his head for a little while, trying to get a feel for the technique. Bama is bulky. Thick and warm. He tries to be precise in his motions to take Bama in as far as he can while providing stimulation to what he couldn't swallow. It earns him moans for his efforts.

That was another reason he’d done so well in the army: he was a perfectionist to a fault. He pulls his mouth off to lap at his wet tip, and a glance up allows him to see Bama gripping the arm of the couch in white knuckles while his head was thrown back. Bama doesn't look down at him because he knows one glance at those sad baby blues will make him a goner. Dave pulls back to breathe for a moment and lets his hand take over.

“Am I doin’ it right?” Dave asks.

Bama’s head snaps up off the back of the couch.

“Doing it right?” Bama asks incredulously. “Doing it right? Darlin', I know some professionals who could do with a lesson from you.”

Dave smiles, pride and embarrassment all mixed up inside him. It was nothing really. He was only doing to Bama what he liked to have done to him. Bama was just being nice. But that was okay. He was glad he could make Bama feel good. He wraps his lips around him once more, determined to keep Bama in good spirits.

It earns him a warm hand in his short-cropped hair. Bama runs gentle patterns over his scalp in counterpoint to the rough, messy thrusting of hips hips against his lips. Had he been more experienced, he might’ve used his free hand to hold his friend's hips down, but he wasn’t experienced, and anyway, he liked that Bama needed him, especially after everything Bama had done for him recently.

“Feels real good, pal. So good,” Bama murmurs.

It makes his heart ache to hear such praise. It makes him feel even better than that time Gwen relented and gave him a handjob in the back of her daddy’s car. It isn’t long before Bama is moaning in earnest and spewing garbled phrases that Dave can only half understand as he tries to focus on breathing on top of everything else.

It is only when it is too late for Dave to do anything about it that he realizes Bama was trying to warn him.

When Bama calms down, Dave is finally free to sit back on his heels and take in a great gulp of air. There is wetness on his cheek and chin as a result of not being able to swallow or dodge quickly enough. Bama looks down at him and believes that if he were even just ten years younger, the sight of Dave at his feet looking like that would be enough to get him hard again.

No sooner are the words, “You alright?” out of Bama’s mouth when a loud knock comes at the door.

“Dave? Dave, are you home? I saw the light on and stopped over.”

It was Ginny.

“Shit,” Dave spits, jumping up from the floor like his knees had never been better.

“Go wash up,” Bama says, jumping up from his own seat. He quickly does up his pants. “I’ll take care of her.”

But before Dave can rush up to the bathroom, Bama grabs his arm and pulls him in for a kiss. Dave pulls away, wide-eyed.

“What was that for?” Dave asks.

“Dave? Bama?” she says, louder this time. Loud enough for the neighbors to get mad again.

“Go on,” Bama urges.

By the time Dave walks down the stairs and into the living room, Bama and Ginny are sitting on the couch laughing like old pals. Bama had even had the presence of mind to put the pillow back on the sofa.

“Hi, Dave!” Ginny coos.

She springs up from her place next to Bama and throws her arms around his neck like they were in junior high. Underneath her giggles, Dave can hear the distinct snap of chewing gum.

“You wanna go out for a drink tonight, baby?”

His eyes dart over to Bama who shrugs and lights a cigarette, indifferent. Dave gives her a polite smile.

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

Ginny beams her thousand watt smile. She was so easy to please.

“You’re so good to me, Dave.”

Before Dave can respond, she plants a big, lip gloss-sticky kiss on his lips. Bama smiles wryly behind Ginny's back, and Dave unconsciously licks his lips…and then immediately wishes he hadn’t.

“What are you makin’ that face for, Dave? Are you sick?”

Bama studiously does not make eye contact as Dave tries to think of a cover up for the truth of the matter: that bubblegum lip gloss mixed with traces of Bama’s ejaculate did not blend well.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Just something I ate.”

Bama snorts into his glass and holds up a week old newspaper to hide his grin, knowing full well that Dave would probably have something to say about this later. Ignoring his friend, Dave leads Ginny out to Bama’s car, leaving Bama to wonder if their encounter that evening wasn’t at the root of Dave’s problems with this town in the first place.


End file.
